Missing Sam
by Thranduil's Bossy Elk
Summary: Purgatory: the shifter that Sam and Dean met in St. Louis all those years ago is back, and finds an unbearable way to taunt Dean. *SLIGHT* Dean/Benny, it's there if you squint. Let's all give Dean a hug! T T


_A little something to let all the feels out T_T _

_Set in Purgatory Post-Benny but Pre-Cas. _

_I own nothing! _

* * *

**Missing Sam**

The shifter laughed uproariously, tossing long brown hair back and forth. Dean's eyes narrowed and he surged forward, swinging his makeshift machete. The gloom of Purgatory pressed around him from all sides and in the distance he could hear Benny yelling his name. Dean only had eyes for one thing though: the shifter wearing his brother's face.

The shifter skipped aside easily, still laughing at Dean. It had twisted Sam's face into a mocking smile. Dean's stomach boiled with anger. Purgatory was fine, he could deal with the endless onslaught of monsters but this. . . this was personal.

"Dean, hey Dean," the shifter laughed, "Tell me, just how much like Sammy do I look? Can you not even tell the difference?" It held out its arms and leered, "Maybe wanna bring it in for some quality bro-time?"

Dean's hands shook, his vision blurring with anger. He hadn't seen Sam for so long and now this. . . .monster. . . was wearing Sam's face.

"Listen up, you son of a bitch," he growled, "You change, you change right now and maybe I'll kill you quick. You keep wearing that face and it's gonna get messy."

The shifter pouted, enjoying Dean's distress.

"What's the matter, Dean?" it giggled, "Don't love me anymore?"

Dean's bloodied hands tightened on his machete and he ran forward, blind to anything except the bastard shifter reminding him of what he missed so badly.

The shifter shrieked laughingly and ran. As it rushed through the trees it called back to Dean.

"Remember St. Louis, Dean?" it panted, "I loooved wearing your shape all those years ago. You were so cozy!" It kept running, Dean close behind.

Dean's memory went back all those years. Was this really the same shifter? His mouth tightened.

_He could remember- seven years ago, tied up in the shifter's dank underground lair as it tormented Sam. He'd been helpless, unable to do anything. The thick canvas sheet had obscured his vision, but in the dream-state he'd heard his own voice taunting Sam. _

Dean shook his head ruthlessly, ignoring his own pounding headache.

They reached a small clearing, Dean close on its heels, when the shifter panicked and tried to change course, digging its nails into the nearest tree and beginning to climb. Dean surged forward and caught the shifter's ankle, tugging hard. Dean brought up his other arm and stabbed at its calf, trying to get it to fall. He dug his nails into the familiar leg as hard as possible, ignoring the part of his brain that screamed _don't hurt Sam, it's SAM! _Finally, Dean managed to slip the shifter's feet from under it and it fell with a loud _thump_ next to him.

It just lay there, laughing still. Sam's hazel eyes were narrowed with cruel laughter, something that Dean had never seen on his brother's face. He pinned the shifter against the ground and stared at it. Dean had no words.

He gripped the machete tight.

But it was Sam's face.

Now the shifter stopped laughing and was serious. It blinked up at Dean helplessly and spoke.

"Dean, I miss you so much. Why did you get yourself sent down here?" it's lip trembled. "Do you even care about me anymore?"

Dean's head was pounding, he furrowed his brow against the pain of the headache and tried to focus.

"Sam doesn't need me, you piece of crap." he said jerkily. "Sam's gonna get out, he's gonna be ok."

The shifter rolled its eyes maliciously. "You keep telling yourself that, Dean" it sneered.

His hands shaking, Dean raised the machete. Benny's voice grew louder in the distance.

The shifter began shaking with laughter, pounding Sam's head against the forest floor and rolling it back and forth.

The machete fell, the screams of laughter cutting off sharply.

Dean gasped for breath and stood up quickly, leaving the bloodied machete sticking out the shifter's neck. It still looked like Sam.

"Dean! DEAN!" Benny's voiced called.

Dean slumped against a tree trunk, shaking uncontrollably, not even noticing how the dead bark scratched his back. He buried his face in his hands, willing himself to keep it together.

This had been too much.

"Dean?" That was Benny's voice. "Brother, what happened?"

Dean raised his face from his hands and glared at Benny. He stood up quickly and pointed at the body on the ground. "Happened?" he growled, unable to look at the dead body that resembled Sam and unable to keep his voice from cracking.

Benny's face wore a caged expression. He slowly advanced on Dean, holding out his hands. "Alright, brother, I can observe the situation, but we'd best be gone from here soon..."

Dean stood his ground, his face screwed up against the anger inside him.

"There's nowhere to run, Benny! You been here a lot longer'n me, and you still haven't figured that out!"

Benny kept approaching slowly.

"This will NEVER STOP! And I'd actually be ok with that, I really would," Dean drew a hand across his face. "But THIS? This bastard wearin' Sam's face?" He let out a yell through gritted teeth and punched the tree under which Sam lay. His fists were instantly skinned, but he kept going.

Benny closed in on Dean and grabbed his shoulders.

"Dean, stop! You ain't gonna crack on me now, are you? We been through too much for that."

Dean threw a wild punch at Benny, but there wasn't real power behind it. Benny caught his fist and stopped the blow. Dean lashed out with his other arm, but Benny caught him again. Holding both of Dean's arms tightly, Benny backed him against the tree trunk.

"Dean, calm it," he rumbled, holding Dean still.

"Shut up, Benny!" Dean yelled, hot tears beading in the corners of his eyes.

Dean twisted and fought Benny, trying to get his arms up to punch Benny again, but the vampire held Dean firmly.

"You think I don't know how you feel, don't you?" Benny asked quietly. Cold rain began to fall, flattening Dean's hair and dripping off his nose. He twisted again and almost got free from Benny before the vampire tightened his grip on Dean's arms and pinned him against the tree again.

"I do know," Benny continued, ignoring Dean's incoherent curses and shaking shoulders. "I felt this way before, like I had a hole where my chest is. Like I was missin' somethin' that I always had and now that thing is gone."

Dean quieted slightly. He had turned his head to the side, ashamed of crying in front of Benny. The rain continued to fall.

Benny could feel Dean's shaking shoulders grow calmer.

Dean murmured, more to himself than anyone:

"I miss Sam," he whispered. His eyes closed tightly and he breathed through his nose.

Dean, always stoic, always cocky, had tear tracks down his face. He closed his eyes tightly and relaxed against Benny's hold.

"Benny, I just need a moment," Dean said, wiping his face.

The vampire nodded, moving ahead and disappearing into the gloom of Purgatory.

* * *

Dean sat with his back against a tree and buried his face in his hands, the bruises left by Benny's hands still smarting on his arms.

"Sam." he said quietly.

In the near distance, Benny hummed a marching tune.

"Sam, I know I can't pray to you like I would to Cas, but right now I really wish that I could." Dean bit his lip, the weariness in his face becoming clearer.

"Sam. . . "

Dean sighed and set his jaw. He stood up, slinging his machete over a shoulder and dragging his head up to face Purgatory again.

"I'm gonna see you soon, Sam."


End file.
